


Blue Moon Motel

by orphan_account



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Coercion into sex, Drag Queen Character, Dream Sequence, Emetophobia, Feminization, Gaslighting, Humiliation, Incest Mention, M/M, Manipulation, Men in drag, One Shot, Pedophilia mention, Pimp/prostitute AU, Pool Sex, Prostitution, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Spanking, Toxic Relationship, Violence, age gap, don’t worry none of that stuff actually happens, dubcon, eating disorder mention, if you’re looking for fluff and healthy relationships this ain’t it chief, richie is a flaming piece of garbage in this au, vomit tw, whos surprised though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25138609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Go on, princess,” he encourages, and Eddie follows the man into the restroom across the food court, heels clicking against the tiles.And that guilt comes back as Richie flicks through the cash, creeping around his shoulders and holding him by his waist. He wants to vomit, or scream, or run and kick the shit out of the guy and tell him to stay away but he can’t. He won’t.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, eddie kaspbrak/unnamed OC
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	Blue Moon Motel

**Author's Note:**

> hi there! first off i’d like to say please please PLEASE heed the tags before proceeding. there’s some stuff in here that could potentially be very triggering and i want to make sure no one is upset by this too much. im really pleased with this fic and i hope you all like it too!  
> here’s the playlist for optimal reading experience: [Blue Moon Motel](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/34udI6SyoPWQTN9X41OqYp?si=6nLgXyU-RWWGhmNcuuq5DA)

Tucked away in the southern part of Derry about 300 feet away from a decaying strip mall, the Blue Moon Motel’s visitors and occupants are few and far between. 

It smells of cigarettes and booze, with rats scurrying in between the walls and mold growing in the corners of rooms. It’s one of those places that just didn’t feel  _ right;  _ as if you were in a dream, the haze of the blue neon sign forever flashing  _ vacant,  _ old music drifting from the broken record player at the front desk. You’ve been there before, you just don’t know when. 

There’s a pool in the back, just as unkempt as the rest of the motel. 

Glowing green water and plants overgrowing by the fence, dirty beach chairs and glass tables covered in filth. You can still hear the music from the record player out here, faint and warbling. 

Eddie sits in one of the beach chairs now, a to-go box of chicken lo mein perched on his thighs. His bouncy double D breastplate is beginning to weigh on his shoulders, but he ignores it in favor of shoveling more noodles between his silicone injected lips. 

Richie’s dark curls pop up from the pool, dripping water into his face. The older man always jokes that the pool glows aquamarine because it’s full of toxic waste, but it’s never stopped him from jumping in. 

“Enjoying your dinner, sweets?” he asks, propping himself up against the side of the pool, crossing his arms and staring at his beau. 

Eddie is wearing a bikini, but has no plans on getting in with him. He has one of his favorite wigs on, long and blonde, and a full face of makeup on— and he’s not a moron. 

“Mhm,” he hums, shoveling another mouthful of lo mein into his mouth. His legs are elegantly crossed, smooth and tan as always, his eyes downcast and showing off his long false eyelashes. 

Richie has that lovestruck look on his face again, the one that says  _ I’m so in love with him it hurts,  _ his cheekbones and sharp jawline illuminated in the glow of the pool lights. 

And he really is in love with him to a point of pain. His heart seizes every time he has to leave him with whatever man pays the most to fool around with him, guilt creeping around him and massaging his shoulders as he counts the cash. His heels hurt for him when he complains about the too-tall stilettos he wears, even if they make his legs look incredibly sexy. He loves him fiercely, to a point where it burns him up and there’s nothing he can do about it except drown in the pain. 

Eddie seems oblivious, continuing to eat. He never really has much of an expression on his face— he doesn’t feel much at all these days. He doesn’t really need to; he really doesn't even need to think anymore. 

His days are simple and repetitive: wake up, give Richie head, get ready, go to the strip mall, let Richie whore him out to anyone who would take him, eat dinner, chill at the pool, get high, fuck, sleep. It’s an endless loop of sex, money and drugs, and though years ago he would have cringed at living like this he’s used to it now. He wasn’t the uptight teenager he used to be; he’s 21 now, he knows better. 

Some people get a happy ending on a cul-de-sac and a family. Others end up living in the Blue Moon Motel with their dead mother’s friend-turned-pimp.

Richie lifts himself out of the water, droplets running down his abs and into the waistband of his track shorts. He’s oddly fit for a 45 year old; his eyes and mouth have developed lines from his trademark grin and flecks of gray are beginning to grow in his sideburns, but he still seems almost youthful in the lime glow of the pool. 

“Look at me,” he coos, one wet hand coming to caress the side of Eddie’s face. And even though Eddie knows he’ll ruin his cheap foundation he does so, leaning his cheek into Richie’s palm, letting his slick fingers rub against his face. “There’s a good girl.”

And he does what he always does— his thumb travels to Eddie’s plump lips, pulling the bottom one down to expose a row of shiny teeth. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, his eyelids covered in pink glitter and purple eyeshadow as his lips slowly close around the thumb, sucking it into his mouth. 

Richie has that foolish look on his face. Eddie’s breaths are soft as he shifts his tongue around the digit, gentle and tender. Richie tastes like chlorine, but neither of them seem to notice as they draw closer, Eddie’s lips wet with saliva and pool water. 

“I love you,” the confession is soft, Richie murmuring it like a prayer, his breaths hot against Eddie’s face. “I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved before.”

_ Anything. Because at the end of the day, Eddie is a thing to him. Not anyone, but a plaything.  _

Eddie opens his eyes, pupils wide. The thumb slides out of his mouth, leaving a trail of spit down his chin. 

“I love you more,” this confession is just as quiet as his lover’s, low and soft against the older man’s ears. “I’m yours, daddy. I love you.”

And  _ that’s  _ Richie’s trigger, the innocently murmured  _ daddy  _ from Eddie’s lips. He can’t help but grab his hand, wrapping a towel around his waist before bringing him back into the motel room. 

It’s a fucking mess, at least the part that Eddie isn’t in charge of. The walls are full of decades old cracks, mold growing on the ceiling and emitting a smell Eddie usually managed to mask with his perfume. But it’s home for them, and that was what mattered. 

If Richie told Eddie they would start living in a dumpster, he had no doubt he’d pack up his things and follow him like a little lost puppy to the ends of the earth. 

“Let’s take a shower,” Richie’s wet body rubs up against Eddie’s, sneaky fingers coming to untie the back of Eddie’s bikini top. 

“I have to take all this off first. You know that,” Eddie sighs, letting the cheap fabric fall from his chest. 

“Let me help.” The words are mumbled against the column of his neck, fingers wandering to the hem of his swimsuit bottom. Eddie giggles in spite of himself, peeling his blonde wig off his head and following it with his wig cap, letting his curls spring loose. “You’re so pretty, my darling.”

Eddie doesn’t want to push him away, but he has to take off his chest plate, the faux breasts weighing heavy on his chest. He borderline throws it off before reaching for a makeup wipe—

“Don’t. I wanna see it run in the shower,” Richie growls in his ear, big hand trapping his small wrist. And  _ fuck  _ Eddie’s gut throbs with heat, melting against his lover’s hot, slick body. “I’ll go turn it on. Strip and meet me there.”

Eddie catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he slides the bikini bottom off. He’s tan, straight from the bottle, greasy curls on his head and ribs poking out from his torso. His makeup looks trashy and his body is… almost frail, like he was when he was a child. He’s a shadow of his former self, and he loves the shadow more than he’s ever loved himself before. 

If his mother knew where he was now, what had happened with the man she’d trusted so, she’d have a heart attack. 

He hears the faint spray of water from the bathroom, snapping out of it. 

Richie’s already under the steaming water when he enters the room, the mirror fogged up with a little heart drawn against the glass. The steam hits Eddie’s face as he steps into the little glass box, immediately pressed against Richie’s hairy chest. Hot water hits the slope of his back as a hand runs through his curls, big and calming against his head. 

“I love you,” Richie whispers in his ear again, his stubble scratching against Eddie’s neck. The words go up in steam like the rest of the water, fogging up Eddie’s brain as a wet hand slides down his back, coming to the pink jeweled plug peeking out from between his cheeks. “Nothing’s ever gonna hurt you, my prince.”

Eddie sighs softly as the plug is eased out of him, his ass wet and gaping to be filled again. He rarely wasn’t filled with something— when he wasn’t getting fucked by Richie or a client, he almost always had a plug in so he’d be ready to go. He’d gotten used to the warm, pleasurable stretch; his pretty pink asshole fluttering as he waits to be stuffed full of Richie’s cock. 

But Richie knows what he wants, he can feel it radiating from his whole body. Back curved like a whore; juicy ass shiny from the water; curls damp against the back of his neck, he knows Eddie so desperately wanted to be filled, knows it’s all the boy thinks he’s good for. 

He can be used for other things. 

He steadies himself with a hand on Eddie’s hip, taking his fat cock in his hand and sliding it between the younger man’s cheeks. He loves teasing him like this; watching Eddie’s hole flutter as the head of his cock rubs over it, the curve of his dick looking so pretty between Eddie’s plump ass. Eddie whines low in the back of his throat, needy and hot, Richie’s other hand smoothing down his spine as he thrust his hips. 

“Please,” Eddie whispers softly, hands braced against the shower wall, tile cold on his hands. It almost feels like a prayer, as if Richie's cock inside of him is the greatest blessing he could ever receive. Richie’s hand tightens on Eddie’s hip, fingers digging into the tan flesh. It will leave bruises tomorrow, they both know, purple and angry and reminding Eddie who he truly belongs to as he lets himself get railed by a stranger. 

“Beg,” is Richie’s snarled reply, hips still grinding up into the meat of Eddie’s ass. He knows he’ll cum fast if he doesn’t stop himself, his balls full and heavy against Eddie’s ass, but he loves hearing Eddie’s whimpery voice beg to get fucked. It’s all the poor boy knows, but god does he do it well. 

“Please,  _ daddy,”  _ Eddie whines, “please? I’ll be such a good girl for you, just wanna feel your fat cock inside me, please…”

Richie tugs his hair, the tip of his dick pressed to Eddie’s puckered ass. 

“You’re so big, I want you splitting me open with your big dick, daddy, please?” he sounds on the verge of tears now, his mascara effectively pouring down his face and lipstick smudged in all the wrong directions. “Please, I just need your cock stuffing my boycunt…”

“You’re pathetic,” Richie growls as he grabs the inside of the younger man’s thigh, hiking it up until his legs are open enough for him to slide between them. “All you know is taking cock, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Eddie sobs as the tip of Richie’s dick slides in effortlessly, “All I know is being a sissy cockwhore, daddy.”

And  _ fuck  _ it takes all of Richie’s willpower to not slam into him right then, hold his hips tight and fuck him until he cries and bleeds. 

“That’s right, princess,” he coos, sliding another inch into him. Richie is  _ big—  _ there’s no denying that. And even though Eddie was fantastic at taking dick, they always had to take it slow at first, Richie’s cock fat and red and probably capable of splitting Eddie open if he pushed in too fast. 

“I need more,” Eddie whines, pushing his ass back onto Richie’s length, earning a low moan from the older man. 

“Greedy,” he chastises with no real bite, Eddie’s heat warm and clenching around him. “So desperate for a dick in your ass, you can barely wait.”

Eddie simply whines in response, pushing his hips back further into his beau until he feels a pair of large hands holding his hips firmly. 

“Naughty,” Richie coos, thrusting his hips forwards until he’s fully sheathed inside Eddie. And the whimper that comes from his lips is music to Richie’s ears, gentle and angelic. 

That’s all it takes to have him slamming his cock deep into Eddie, hitting his sweet spot over and over as the boy melts under the steam. 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ Eddie whines, back arching further into Richie’s body, his false eyelashes coming off his eyelids and falling onto the shower floor from a mixture of tears and hot water. “Daddy, it feels so good…”

Richie just holds onto his hips tighter as he pounds into his cunt, pressing himself against the younger man. His beer belly fits nicely into the small of Eddie’s back, as if they’re disgusting, fucked up puzzle pieces just made for each other. “You’re so good for me,” he huffs into Eddie’s ear, hips slamming almost painfully against Eddie’s ass. 

Eddie’s hand reaches down, the other still bracing himself against the shower wall. His small cock is pathetic compared to Richie’s, leaking against his thigh as he wraps a hand around it and jerks. He can’t stop the shuttering moans from falling from his lips as Richie slams his prostate— no, fuck, his g-spot— brutally, his body lit up like a livewire. 

“You’re such a slut,” Richie groans into his ear, his breaths hot and sticky against Eddie’s earlobe. “Even when you spend all day taking dick, you only fall apart for  _ me.” _

Eddie lets out a pathetic moan as Richie fucks deeper into him, his regard for his lover completely evaporated like the water from the stream. Eddie isn’t a boy anymore— he’s a silicone fuckdoll, a fleshlight for Richie to pound into. Richie’s cock plunges deep, slamming into Eddie’s guts and splitting his peachy ass wide open. 

Eddie can’t help but put a hand on his stomach to feel the bulge Richie’s length makes inside him, a little bump just above his belly button plunging in and out. “It hurts,” he whines fruitlessly, knowing Richie has no intention of stopping. And it hurts in just the way he likes it, burning and piercing and  _ hot.  _

“Shut up and take it,” one hand leaves his hip and sneaks its way across his face, three fingers hooking into his mouth and holding his jaw open. Humiliation rips through his body, precum sputtering from the head of his dick. He looks like a whore and he knows it; mascara smudged down his cheeks, red lipstick smeared across his mouth, ass gaped wide and mouth held open. 

The sick, fucked up part of himself adores it. 

“You gonna cum?” Richie’s thumb makes circles on the soft skin of Eddie’s cheek, “gonna cum too quick like a  _ sissy?”  _

The word is dripping with poison, and Eddie’s face flashes hot with embarrassment. 

“Yes,” he whimpers as best as he can with fingers in his mouth. “I’m your sissy slut, Richie.”

Richie groans against his neck, his hips speeding up along with the filthy sound of his balls slapping against Eddie’s ass. “You’re so good,” he sighs, his other hand moving to cover Eddie’s, “let me finish you, honey, keep your hand still.”

Eddie can feel the heat in his stomach growing, whimpering as Richie’s big hand begins to jerk his small penis roughly. “Want you to cum all over yourself,” he growls in his ear, “remind yourself who’s the boss here. Who lets you cum, and who’s the omega.

Eddie feels shame wash over his body as his orgasm quickly creeps up on him— Richie is right. Richie is the alpha, and he’s his little cumslut who—

“ _ Fuck!”  _ Eddie screams as he cums, his legs shaking as thick ropes of seed splatter. Richie grabs his thigh as his hips piston into him, slamming his abused g-spot over and over and earning a spurt of cum from his poor cock each time. It hurts like hell, Eddie’s whole body burning and aching from the pleasure, his head rolling back onto Richie’s shoulder. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he grunts, sounding somewhat like a feral animal to Eddie. And the younger can’t help but whine, his body spent and thighs quivering, but he knows he won’t get anywhere— he’s a fuckdoll for Richie, he knows his place now. His boycunt is the only part of him that will ever matter, and he’s accepted it. He embraces it, letting Richie run his hands over his slick chest, his nipples pebbling even under the hot water. 

The next 20 minutes pass in a haze of pain and pleasure, cum leaking from his cock as Richie slams into his abused hole over and over. Eddie isn’t even sure he’s fully conscious anymore, his eyes rolling back into his head and his vision spinning softly. The pain is a dull ache now in his thighs and ass, where Richie’s fat cock has stretched his rim until it’s tight and red. 

He snaps out of it when Richie moans low and deep in the back of his throat, hips stilling with the all-too-familiar feeling of cum leaking into his loose, wet cunt. 

“Fuck,” Richie is balls deep, his chest rising and falling against Eddie’s smooth back, his beer belly pressing into him uncomfortably. “Fuck, babygirl, you’re so good for me.”

Eddie lets his eyes flutter shut as the feeling of soap being poured down his back overtakes his senses, soothing and warm. Richie washes his body with a tenderness that hadn’t been there moments ago, a soft sponge running up and down his torso and suds dripping down his legs. 

He doesn’t want Richie to pull out, his presence inside him almost comforting. “So sweet, princess,” his words melt like butter against Eddie’s ears, big hands roaming his body and scrubbing in the soap. “Such a good toy for daddy.” 

Eddie can’t help the soft moan that escapes him as Richie’s hands smooth over his pecs, the pads of the older man’s thumbs running over his nipples. Richie’s ability to do this was uncanny— one moment Eddie was a stupid whore, the next he was a pretty princess who deserved nothing but soft touches and gentle words. It gave Eddie whiplash, frankly. 

Richie’s hands are in his hair now, lathering shampoo into his curls. “My pretty baby,” he coos, pressing gentle kisses to the nape of his neck before taking the shower head from where it was attached and using it to rinse out the shampoo. 

Next thing Eddie knows he’s in bed, snuggled into Richie’s broad chest. His thighs ache and eyelids droop as Richie’s soft snores fill the room, the light from the  _ Blue Moon Motel  _ sign outside their window illuminating the shitty wallpaper. His curls are damp and his silk nightgown is hitched below his ass. 

He could get up and leave now. He could go back to his normal life, get a normal job and go back to college, pack up his things and take the next greyhound to Bangor, pretend this had never happened. 

Except he doesn’t want to. He can’t. Richie needs him as much as he needs Richie, and he doesn’t want to think about what would happen if he left the older man. 

And he loves him. He loves him more than anything else. 

He decides that he’ll never even consider leaving again as he drifts off into sleep, Richie’s breaths gentle against his hair. 

___

Richie wakes up to morning wood and a brown bob facing the vanity. 

Eddie is wearing his favorite dress, pink and body fitting with feathery ruffles across the top, spaghetti straps across his shoulders. Richie thanks the lord his boy has a naturally feminine body— the dress would look ridiculous on any other man without hip pads, but Eddie doesn’t need them. He’s got a juicy, jiggly ass and round, girly hips to compliment it perfectly. 

He can see he’s applying lipstick across his cupid’s bow in the mirror, faux lashes peeking out from under his bangs and blush smeared across his cheeks liberally. 

“Morning, princess,” he grumbles from the bed, propping himself up on his forearms. Eddie turns and offers him a smile over his shoulder, playful and quick before turning back to his vanity. He’s always up before him, fussing with his hair and makeup as Richie sleeps. “When you’re done you wanna come give me head?” 

Eddie nods noncommittally, reaching for his bottle of perfume and spraying it quite generously. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Richie yawns, pawing for his glasses and sliding them onto his face. Eddie stands and grabs a little white baggie from the coffee table, rolling up a dollar bill and pulling out his laundry card. “Isn’t it a little early for that?” 

“Better than drinking the shit coffee here,” Eddie replies sarcastically before sniffing a line, white powder on his nostrils and falling into his faux cleavage. 

“C’mere,” Richie beckons, rubbing his palm over the crotch of his sweatpants as Eddie slinks over, worrying his lip between his teeth. 

“Horny bastard,” Eddie murmurs under his breath as he crawls onto the bed, sitting on his thighs and pulling the waistband of his sweatpants down. Richie’s cock is already hard and leaking, the head an angry red and beading with precum. 

“It won’t take long,” Richie replies casually, watching raptly as Eddie bends over, back curved gracefully. “You know how easy morning wood is to…”

He cuts himself off with a soft groan, Eddie’s lips around the tip of his dick. “Fuck,” he murmurs, Eddie’s mouth hot and wet around him. Eddie really was good at sucking dick, even if he liked to be shy about it. 

It helped that he didn’t have a gag reflex. 

Eddie slides down further, red lipstick smearing down Richie’s length as he does so. Richie can already feel heat building in his stomach, partially at the sight of Eddie staring up at him with those doe eyes, mouth stuffed full of fat cock. “I’m not gonna- gonna last long,” Richie moans, hand coming to Eddie’s hair. He knows the boy knows that, but it doesn’t hurt to remind him. “Can I- I’m gonna fuck your throat.”

Eddie gulps down even further, until about an inch of Richie’s cock is left exposed. They both know he can take it all. 

Richie’s hips buck, effectively shoving the last of his dick into Eddie’s mouth, the tip hitting the back of his throat. “Fuck,” he grunts, hips beginning to piston into Eddie’s face. And Eddie takes it like a champ, tears welling in his eyes but his mouth firmly open and hands braced against Richie’s hips. “Fuck, princess, you’re such a good cocksleeve for daddy.”

Eddie smiles mischievously up at him, mouth still wide open for Richie to fuck into. Eddie’s throat is tight and wet, and Richie can feel himself getting closer and closer by the minute. 

“You’re so fucking  _ good,”  _ his words are slurred, interrupted with grunts and gasps in between. “Gonna cum down your throat, and you’ll swallow it like a good girl—”

Eddie hollowed his cheeks and Richie was gone, spurring his hot seed down Eddie’s throat. His hips stuttered erratically, fucking further into Eddie’s mouth, cock red with smudged makeup. 

He feels warm and numb, barely registering Eddie slinking away to reapply his crimson lipstick. “Put your dick away,” Eddie sneers playfully, “and get dressed. We’ve got work to do.” 

Richie rolls his eyes, pulling his sweatpants back up and rolling out of bed. “I’m gonna shower,” he winks, remembering their escapades last night. “Come here, my darling.”

Eddie obeys like the puppy he is, and Richie pulls him in for a soft kiss. It’s gentle, almost innocent, Eddie lapping into Richie’s mouth sweetly. He tastes like cum and cherry lip gloss, Richie faintly registers. “I love you,” he whispers, “I love you so, so, so much.”

“I love you more,” Eddie replies; and it’s how he always replies, but Richie’s heart still flutters in his chest at his words. “Now go clean up, silly goose.”

Richie jerks off in the shower, but not to the thought of Eddie sucking his cock or gaping himself open for him. It’s an image of his lips, whispering that phrase. 

_ I love you more.  _

___

Eddie loves the strip mall. 

There’s not much there, but compared to the stuffy motel room, it’s a safe haven for him. He’ll take the tinny retro hits blasting from the speakers over the warbling record player any day, and it’s nice to have some open air. A big space all to himself, his own little ballroom surrounded by stores and floor tiles straight out of 1987. 

It’s pretty much always abandoned. A Korean restaurant, a sub shop, a few insurance groups or something, a couple cheap clothing stores, some sort of weird engravement place, and a tiny food court that was pretty much always abandoned. 

And the people who  _ were  _ there were the exact people he wanted. They were the people who wanted him. 

Richie sits in one of the food court chairs, feet crossed on the table as he snacks on a bag of chips. Eddie waits, his little pink purse tight at his side. 

He examines Richie’s side profile. He’s probably one of the most attractive older men he’s ever met; he’s always thought that. His 5 o’ clock shadow was sexy, flecks of gray peppering his dark curls to go with it. He had lines deep in his face from years of smiling and laughing, around his eyes and mouth to show his age. 

Eddie remembers when he wasn’t gray, when Eddie barely knew who he was. 

Sonia Kaspbrak was a very strange woman— somehow obsessive and careless at the same time, easily upset yet cruel and obnoxious all at once. She didn’t seem like the type of person Richie would like at all, and vice versa; yet they’d met at a work event for Richie’s former job and the rest was history. Sonia and Richie had hit it off immediately; Richie was charming and suave, sweet talking Sonia like it was nothing. She thought he was sweet, and such a sweet man deserved to meet her son, after all the poor boy needs a father figure and  _ I think you two would get along swell… _

Eddie was fourteen when he met Richie, all short shorts and long legs and track shoes and lollipops. Richie had eaten dinner with them, charming Sonia and chatting with Eddie. Eddie was strange to him; he wasn’t like other boys his age. He was a little spitfire, but he had no interest in football or girls or cars. His closet was all pastels and soft colors, shorts and t-shirts just the tiniest bit too small. 

Richie had brushed it off; Eddie was good conversation. He was smart and funny for someone his age, and Richie always got a kick out of seeing him. 

And then Sonia died. 

A heart attack, to no one’s surprise. 

Eddie was seventeen, and didn’t cry once at the funeral. But he couldn’t live on his own just yet— so Richie did the right thing and took him into his own home. Eddie was a quiet boy, and he could take care of himself. 

And it was easy for the first few weeks— Eddie went to school in the mornings when Richie went to work. They’d come home and do their respective things in their rooms, then have a TV dinner together, then say goodnight and head off to bed. It was simple and routine, and neither of them minded. 

But then Richie started noticing things. 

He noticed how round Eddie’s ass was, how it jiggled a bit when he pulled the waistband of his track shorts up. He noticed the feminine curves of his hips and waist, almost as if he’d taken them from a woman himself. The bat of his long eyelashes, the smooth skin on his stomach, how slender his shoulders were, he noticed every little detail. 

And every detail chipped away at his self control. He’d often catch himself staring when Eddie wasn’t looking, his hands desperately wanting to grab one of Eddie’s plump cheeks and squeeze or slap it until it turned red. He found himself jerking off late at night to the idea of Eddie, who was sleeping soundly a few rooms over— his fantasies were complex and bountiful, countless sexy scenarios running over in his head each night. 

He knew it was wrong; God, it was  _ so  _ wrong, Eddie was  _ seventeen  _ for god’s sake and he just lost his mother and Richie was taking advantage of him—

Richie popped Eddie’s cherry when the teen had shown up in his doorway wearing a matching silk pj set one night, a condom in one hand and a vibrator in the other. 

He could have said no, he  _ should  _ have said no; he should have pushed the teen off as he sat in his lap, buzzing the vibrator across his own cock. He should have shoved Eddie away as he tried to deepthroat Richie’s cock, but he didn’t. It had been his last chance to redeem himself, and he’d thrown it away. 

He’d laid in bed that night panting as Eddie slept soundly, frankly just amazed that Eddie had made the first move. 

When Richie had been laid off, Eddie had fretted just as much as he had. The teen had a job at the local diner, but he was in school and could only work so much. Richie was up shit’s creek and they both knew it— until Eddie had a genius idea. 

One night he’d come home with a fat wad of cash in his backpack, and as he sat himself on Richie’s lap he explained that there were plenty of men at the truck stop north of town  _ dying  _ to get their cocks sucked. 

Neither of them were really sure how the rest happened— Eddie knows he bought a breastplate and sold his old boy clothes for pretty girl ones after he quit his job at the diner, and Richie knows at  _ some point  _ he became Eddie’s… he wouldn’t say pimp, per se. 

Eddie was no longer that innocent 14 year old Richie had met so long ago. He still had his pretty long legs and doe eyes and soft curls, but he was 21 now— he’d lost his baby fat and his lips had been injected with silicone, his eyes sunken in and nails long and fake. 

A shiny silver cross necklace dangles between Eddie’s tits, rhinestone encrusted and frankly, tacky as all hell. But it looks great on him, sandwiched between his silicone breasts, matching earrings hanging from his earlobes. 

“Heading to church after this?” Richie jokes, running his fingers over the cross. Eddie rolls his eyes, giggling innocently and batting his hand away. 

“I get lots of compliments when I wear this,” he replies, “God, I can’t even remember the last time I was inside a church.”

Richie remembers for him. It was Sonia’s funeral. 

“You don’t need church,” he brushes it off, taking a swig from his cup of vodka-infused Dr. Pepper. “Church is for dumbasses who think life is only bad because God wants it to be, not because they bring their own suffering on themselves.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, tapping his fingernails against the plastic tabletop. “Alright, Holden Caulfield,” he quips, earning a swift middle finger from Richie. “I don’t know. I… I still think some kind of God is real.”

Richie’s eyebrows raise over his glasses at his boyfriend, taking another sip of his battery acid drink. “Someone’s looking after me, I think,” Eddie continues. 

“Yeah, dummy. I am,” Richie snarks, Eddie rolling his eyes again. “How do you think someone’s looking out for you? No offense, but you’ve had a shit life.”

Eddie looks down, and Richie notices his eyelids are packed with blue eyeshadow. “It could have been worse. I could be living on my own now, struggling to survive,” he shrugs, “I could be deathly sick or get hit by lightning. Mom could still be alive. I think God is looking out for me, just in the sense that he’s not letting me die.”

Richie snorts, turning away from Eddie. “Okay, Jim Jones,” he quips back, earning a smack on the arm from a manicured hand. 

“Not even  _ remotely  _ comparable,” Eddie huffs, crossing his arms stubbornly. Richie can’t help but grin at him, laughing at how his nose scrunches up at him like it always does when he doesn’t get his way. 

“Eh. A little bit,” Richie shrugs, and Eddie gives him a death stare for a few more seconds before bursting into giggles, the noise melodic and sweet. 

Richie lives for these moments, when Eddie’s cheeks almost seem like they’re full of natural color again and his laugh fills the room. In a glimpse he can almost see that little 14 year old he met so long ago, doe eyed and innocent. 

A man approaches them, clearly eyeing Eddie. He’s been a client before— Richie recognizes him after a few moments, crossing his arms as he comes over. 

“How much for a quick fuck?” 

“Depends. What do you want to do to him?”

“Wanna fuck his ass.”

“$150. $200 if you wanna cum inside him.”

The man considers this before taking his wallet out and forking out 20 ten dollar bills. Eddie looks skeptical, his eyes narrowed as he watches the money fall into Richie’s hands; Richie briefly worries that maybe he’d had a bad experience with this man, that he’ll hurt him if he wants to— but he couldn’t afford to worry or turn someone away. 

“Go on, princess,” he encourages, and Eddie follows the man into the restroom across the food court, heels clicking against the tiles. 

And that guilt comes back as Richie flicks through the cash, creeping around his shoulders and holding him by his waist. He wants to vomit, or scream, or run and kick the shit out of the guy and tell him to stay away but he can’t. He won’t. 

It still kills him.

___

Eddie barely has time to react before his dress is pushed above his ass, his thong being pulled to the side. “Forgot you’ve got a little cock,” the man snarls, spreading a hand over his ass. 

Eddie sighs softly in response, curving his back and pressing his cheek against the bathroom tile. It’s disgusting and  _ so  _ fucking unsanitary, but he doesn’t care about germs anymore. He’ll shower when he gets back to the motel. 

The plug is pulled from his ass, and he shudders as it stretches his rim. His hole gapes pathetically, waiting to be filled again— he rarely  _ doesn’t  _ have something in him, he realizes, clenching around nothing. “Sir-“

“Shut the fuck up,” the man grunts, spitting on his own cock and shoving it into Eddie’s cunt. Eddie whimpers at the sensation; it’s raw and painful, and the guy’s dick is big. “God, I forgot how good you are.”

His hips start thrusting, and Eddie knows he looks like a slut, ass jiggling with each smack of the man’s hips against him. It burns, but he keeps his mouth shut. Sometimes the man tips him if he’s feeling especially nice. 

“Yeah, take it like a good girl, Sarah,” the man moans, hands braced against Eddie’s hips. 

Eddie hates it when clients do that. When they call him by the names of their wives and daughters and coworkers, pretend he’s a real woman willingly having sex with them. He gives them what those women won’t. 

“Yes, babygirl, take daddy’s cock,” his words echo across the bathroom, and a wave of nausea sweeps over Eddie.  _ Sarah is his daughter, stepdaughter. Maybe granddaughter.  _

He gags into his hand as the man’s cock shoves into him, battering his guts carelessly. It’s like how Richie fucks him, almost, but Richie uses lube and is a lot nicer to him. 

He swallows down bile as the man smacks his ass, slamming his hips hard and fast. “Yeah, you like it when daddy slams your baby cunt? You’re so much tighter than your sister,” he snarls in Eddie’s ear, “And you don’t resist.”

Eddie feels a single tear streak down his face, holding back a sniffle as the man moans into his ear. He hates it, he hates him and he wants to go home, wants to lay in Richie’s arms and pretend everything's okay. 

That won’t make it okay, but it’ll help. 

A few minutes later he feels the horribly familiar feeling of warm cum spilling into his cunt, his hole clenching as the man pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ whore,” he snaps, wiggling the butt plug back into him. Eddie wants to whine at him, he doesn’t  _ want  _ his cum inside him, but the man simply tucks a $20 bill into his thong and slams the door behind him. 

“Thank you,” he calls weakly, out of habit rather than out of courtesy as the footsteps recede, sinking onto the toilet seat as tears begin to spill down his cheeks. 

He wipes at his face frantically— he doesn’t want to smudge his makeup, doesn’t want it to seem like he’s been crying. A few minutes go by until he hears Richie’s familiar footsteps; “Eddie, sweetheart? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Eddie replies shakily, opening the door of the stall and letting himself bury his face in his lover’s chest. 

___

Richie decides to splurge on dinner because of the shitty client Eddie had earlier. Pizza from Papa John’s, with breadsticks and soda. 

“I’m gonna get fat,” Eddie complains as he takes a bite of pepperoni pizza, dangling his feet in the pool. He’s back in his bikini, his hair tied up in a ponytail. 

“No, you’re not,” Richie replies, mouth stuffed full of his own slice. He’s waist deep in the pool, one wet hand on Eddie’s thigh. “You’re underweight, smart one.” 

“No, I’m already fat,” Eddie pouts, pinching at the skin on his stomach. “See?”

“I’m not arguing with you about this,” Richie sighs, shoving the rest of his pizza into his mouth. “If you wanna lose weight so bad, do some more coke.”

That stings a little bit. 

“Fuck you,” Eddie snaps, splashing water into Richie’s face. 

“Watch it,” Richie barks back, his blunt fingernails digging into Eddie’s thigh. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with  _ you?”  _ Eddie snips back, tears welling in the back of his eyes. 

“You’ve been off all day,” Richie replies, “I’m worried about you.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie huffs, taking a swig of his soda. “I’ll just do some more coke though, right?”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Richie’s hand is grabbing his chin in an instant, sending a shiver down Eddie’s spine. “Don’t you  _ ever  _ run your mouth at me.”

“That’s all you ever do to me,” Eddie retorts, Richie’s breath hot against his face. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

In an instant he’s pulled into the waist-deep water, yelping as the cold water splashes against him. He’s pressed against Richie’s chest, hands trailing over the older man’s muscles, which are warm even in the chilly water. “You’re a brat,” Richie snarls, low and husky in Eddie’s ear. 

“I'd be careful about your next move. You know what you are without me?” Eddie’s lips drag against Richie’s earlobe, “you’re  _ nothing.  _ If I leave, I can destroy you.”

“You won’t, though,” Richie replies casually, his fingers skimming along the chesnut skin on Eddie’s waist. 

The worst part is that Eddie knows it’s true— he wouldn’t ever. 

“You know you belong to me. And you know you need me as much as I need you,” he growls, hands wandering down until his fingers are hooked in Eddie’s bikini bottom. 

“Prove it,” Eddie whispers, knowing he’s hit the final button. 

In an instant Richie’s lips are pressed against his, fierce and fiery. The kiss is feverish and makes Eddie’s bones melt like chocolate under his skin, Richie’s strong fingers gripping at his body. 

And Eddie remembers that this is what he wants— he wants Richie to need him, to be the only one who can sexually satisfy him. 

“Baby,” Richie whispers, “you’ve been so bad.”

“I know,” he replies against his mouth, “you ought to punish me.”

He feels Richie’s dick jump against his thigh at that, the kiss becoming sloppy and imprecise. “On the side of the pool, on your stomach. Legs in the water.”

Eddie hoists himself onto the edge, doing as Richie asks. He feels the large hands slide his bikini bottom down his legs, knowing they’ll float in the pool as they do this. “Cock between your legs.”

He reaches between his thighs and tucks his small penis in between them, squeezing his legs together. The cold air stings the tip of his dick, and it makes him shiver. 

“Good girl,” Richie coos, running a hand over his thigh. “You know how spankings go, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Eddie mumbles, earning a sharp smack to his leg. 

“You know better.”

“Yes, papa.”

Richie presses a kiss to the area he smacked, his free hand kneading over the soft skin of Eddie’s ass. “Such a bratty little princess.”

With that, he delivers a stinging slap to Eddie’s cheek, earning a yelp from the younger man. “O-one,” Eddie whimpers. 

“I’m only doing this for your own good.”

_ Smack.  _

“Two.”

“You’re usually so good for papa. There’s no need to get sassy.”

_ Smack.  _

“T-three…”

“I’m so kind to you that we’re only going to five, okay? But don’t expect me to be nice to you tonight.” 

_ Smack! _

“F-fu- I mean  _ four.”  _

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel me inside you for weeks.”

_ Smack.  _

“Five,” Eddie gasps, thighs trembling pathetically as his cock leaks precum down them. 

“There we go,” Richie whispers, his fingers untying Eddie’s bikini top as he massages the red skin on his ass. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Hurts,” Eddie whimpers into his hand, tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks and leaving mascara trails. “hurts so bad.”

“I know, sugar,” Richie kisses down his spine, pressing his lips to each vertebrae. “You were so brave, yeah?” 

Eddie just muffles a sob, his shoulders shaking. “I wanna go back to the room.”

“No, not yet,” Richie’s hands run over his shoulder blades as he slides the pink plug out of him, earning a punched out moan from the smaller of the two. 

“I said no,” Eddie tries again, his voice weak, but it’s lost as Richie pulls his shorts down. 

“Can you be a good girl for daddy, sweetheart?” Richie coaxes, his cock coming to rub between Eddie’s cheeks tantalizingly. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Please…” Eddie tries one last time as he melts against Richie, his warmth undeniably comforting. The chlorine stings his cheeks, and he winces momentarily before letting the firmness of Richie’s chest ground him. 

“Atta girl,” Richie coos into his ear as he slides in, the head of his cock poking at Eddie’s stomach. It hurts and makes Eddie want to vomit, but instead he presses a hand over his mouth and takes it without complaint. “I don’t know how you stay this tight when you’re always whoring yourself out,” Richie groans into his shoulder. 

In an instant he’s started a slow rhythm, Eddie’s hands scrambling for purchase on the pool’s edge. Richie’s cock feels like it’s splitting his little body open, stuffing itself deep inside of him as if it’s a parasite. 

_ Richie is the parasite,  _ Eddie thinks hazily to himself as a moan escapes him. 

Even for pool sex it’s a little too dry, and water sloshes into his already ruined hole with each sloppy thrust from the older man. “Fuck,” Richie grunts as his hips speed up, slapping against Eddie’s ass and making them sting even harder. “Oh, princess, you’re so fucking good.”

“T-thank you,” Eddie gasps out, his silicone tits bouncing like a pornstar’s with every smack against his jiggling ass. “Fuck it, hurts—”

Richie’s large hand wraps itself around his throat, effectively making Eddie close his mouth. “You talk too much,” Richie growls, his other hand digging into Eddie’s thigh, “and last time I checked, fleshlights don’t fucking talk.”

Before Eddie can move, Richie’s grabbed his plug from beside him and is pushing it between his lips, pressing it into his mouth until the base meets his lip gloss. Eddie winces at the taste, Richie’s pace speeding up. “Keep that there,” he says before his hand returns to his neck, squeezing enough to make Eddie gag. 

Within minutes he’s light headed, the green lights of the pool spinning in a tunnel as Richie fucks deep into him. “Let go,” he chokes out, managing to keep the plug in his mouth, “I can’t…” 

“Shut up,” Richie hisses, plunging his dick particularly deep into Eddie’s guts. “You’ll take it however I want you to take it.”

Eddie whimpers pathetically as Richie spreads his cheeks open with his free hand, more water sloshing into his gaping pink hole as he thrusts violently. 

“You’re gonna be fucking ruined,” he smirks, black spots dancing in Eddie’s vision. He can’t breathe, why won’t Richie let go—

The last of his vision finally fades out as his head slams against the concrete, Richie’s hand still firmly on his neck. 

_ He’s in a forest.  _

_ His bikini and breastplate are switched for soft linens, and his torso and legs are filled in. It’s warm outside, sunlight filtering through the green leaves.  _

_ He doesn’t know where he is, and he doesn’t need to. He knows he’s safe.  _

_ He can see Richie coming through the forest with a picnic basket in his hand, and he looks… younger, Eddie’s age almost. He looks clean and put together as he sits on the plaid blanket Eddie’s also sitting on, wearing suspenders and a clean shirt.  _

_ “Hi, darling,” he says, kissing his cheek. It’s light and teasing, almost innocent.  _

_ Eddie can’t help but grab his face and kiss him back, relishing in the feeling of Richie’s cheeks not being scruffy with 5 o’ clock shadow. “Hi,” he replies, licking his own lips and realizing they taste like a candy apple.  _

_ “I have to ask you something, my love,” Richie’s voice is soft, nothing like his usual rasp.  _

_ “Yes?” _

_ Flowers sprout around them as they speak, a rainbow of colors and petals peeking in all different directions; Poppies, lilacs, sunflowers, roses, dandelions, and Eddie’s personal favorites, carnations. Richie picks one and tucks it behind Eddie’s ear, a gesture so tender it makes Eddie’s heart seize.  _

_ “Will you marry me?” Richie asks shyly, very unlike himself. He presents a simple gold ring from his pocket, small and perfectly sized for Eddie’s finger.  _

_ Part of Eddie knows it isn’t real, that this isn’t the real Richie, but he ignores that part as he slips the ring on, examining how it glows in the sunlight. Richie pulls him into his lap affectionately as he coos over the ring, his musky smell overtaking Eddie’s senses.  _

_ “Oh, yes,” he sighs dreamily, melting into Richie’s lap as his back meets his chest. “Of course, darling.” _

_ “Good,” Richie presses a kiss to his head, “Because I think you’re my soulmate.” _

_ Eddie giggles, his face flushing as Richie’s arms wrap around his waist. “I know you’re mine,” he replies, turning his head to kiss his cheek again. “Shall we eat?”  _

_ “Of course,” Richie helps him off his lap, “how about you do the honors?” _

_ Eddie gives him one last polite smile before opening the picnic basket. _

_ His mother’s head stares back at him, decayed and swarming with bugs.  _

_ Eddie screams, yet can’t find it in himself to move.  _

_ She’s sobbing hysterically as blood trickles from what used to be her throat, flies crawling out of her eye sockets. “Eddiebear,” she moans as Eddie jumps away from the picnic basket, “how could you do this to me?” _

_ “I- I’m sorry, mommy,” he gasps, his eyes screwed shut. He can still hear his mother’s rasping attempts at breathing, much to his horror, and peeks into the basket one more time. “I’m so sorry.” _

_ Black liquid is oozing out of her mouth now, onto the nice french bread he used to eat when he was a child. “How could you become such a whore? A jezebel?”  _

_ “I didn’t mean to,” Eddie lets a sob rip from his lips, and when he looks at Richie again his younger self is gone, replaced with the 40 year old grin and stubbly face. “Mommy, he made me.” _

_ Richie’s hands come to massage at his shoulders, and Eddie leans to the side and vomits. “Get away from me,” he whispers, staring at the horrifying face of what once was his mother.  _

_ The carnation in his ear has wilted, and the flowers around them begin to blacken and drop as if they’d been set aflame.  _

_ “I’m never leaving you,” Richie murmurs in his ear, words dripping with venom. “You’re mine.” _

_ Eddie sobs again as his mother wails, her black spittle flinging against his face.  _

_ It burns like acid, burning until it melts his skin off his bones and he turns into a puddle of flesh and blood under Richie’s hands— _

He wakes up with a headache and a warm, strong arm  around his waist. His face isn’t burned off, to his knowledge. 

“Richie,” he groans, rubbing at his head. His wig and breastplate are gone, and he’s wearing one of Richie’s old shirts. “Richie…?”

“Hi, baby,” Richie mumbles into his neck, “you okay?”

“What happened?”

“You got a little too excited tonight and hit your head against the concrete, sugar.”

“Didn’t you… hit my head against the concrete?” Eddie asks blearily. 

“What? No, baby, you’re imagining things,” Richie replies, carting his free hand through Eddie’s curls. “You hurt yourself, and you need to rest up.”

“But y-“

“Shh, shh. The damage must have been really bad,” Richie coos, pressing a kiss behind Eddie’s ear. “How about you go to sleep for me, honey?” 

“But- okay,” Eddie finally gives up. Maybe Richie was right— he had hit his head after all, he probably just wasn’t remembering it correctly. 

“I love you,” Richie whispers, “I love you more than anything else.”

“I love you more,” Eddie replies, already drifting back off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> big big thanks to laura (@alcxhardy) on tumblr for being my editor and eddie (@strawberrykaspbrak) for reading it for me! come vibe with me on tumblr @darlingdenbrough <3


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